Opposites in Love
by KanHima Destiny
Summary: "He likes to think it started when she stood up in front of a group of thirty-so people, sopping wet and eyeliner running down her eyes, declaring to the masses that she was the best thing that ever happened to him. But she, ever the optimist and eternal daydreamer, likes to think it happened long before they ever met." Multi-chapter. Ongoing.
1. Chapter 1

He likes to think it started when she stood up in front of a group of thirty-so people, sopping wet and eyeliner running down her eyes, declaring to the masses that she was the best thing that ever happened to him. But she, ever the optimist and eternal daydreamer, likes to think it happened long before they ever met.

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He was twenty-two and running a multi-million dollar company that he inherited from his late father.

Everyday consisted of business calls with high dollar investors, corporate meetings with big shot moneybags that felt the need to look down on him for his age (even though he had the intelligence to stump them all stupid), and large amounts of coffee that would send a physician into cardiac arrest. He never cared to immerse himself in the social buzz outside his office doors nor did he partake in anything beyond crunching numbers and signing off contracts. If any of the staff were asked to describe the young businessman, they'd say things along the lines of 'reclusive' and 'strict'.

And, boy, was he strict. He had a very high standard for the company and he wanted everyone to follow through accordingly, no matter the excuse. Those that didn't abide by the rules were simply let go. "Why waste a single breath of air to explain to them why they were unfit for the job when a box filled with their possessions on their desk can do the same?", he'd often said on more than one occasion, earning looks of fright and disapproval from those who happened to witness the unfortunate situations. And even after hiring many people whom he deemed "worthy enough" to work in his company, he'd always managed to find some kind of flaw with each and everyone one of them. It wasn't uncommon for him to have to fire a handful of workers a month, due to their imperfections (and inability to follow the rules laid out). But the only thing that kept the flow of applications coming in was the enormous pay offered. Double the minimum wage was what it paid to work for him. Suckers, he thought.

Each day was the "same old, same old" routine—never different, never new. He sometimes took a break from signing documents, looked out the large picture window overseeing the stretch of city below, and wistfully wondered what it would have been like if he'd once took up an offer to join the staff for some drinks, mingling with his fellow workers and having what many called a "fun time". But then all it took was taking in the sound of bustling workers inside the building to shake him from his thoughts. He'd come to his senses and remember that hard work built the company from the ground up, not socializing with strangers.

But sometimes…sometimes the thoughts still crept up on him.

And sometimes those thoughts gave birth to new ones: would he remain successful for the rest of his life and have no one to share it with? Did he want a family? Sure, he had his brother and mother. But would he desire for more in the next two, five years? He needed a child to entrust his company to. His brother had his own life, his own business to run. He wouldn't drop everything to run their father's. This left him with the only other option: a child of his own. But there was no one who he trusted. He'd dated a few girls in earlier years, but each one proved that their focus was more on maintaining a claim on his assets than an actual relationship with him.

He sighed.

He had long since lost hope in the idea of love, or falling into it. It was too risky; there was no guarantee, no factual proof to ensure its success. In other words, love was a lost cause to him.

There wasn't anyone in the world that he trusted more than his family. No one was dependable, he all too soon learned. Even the slightest bit of weakness was used against him. So he learned to close up his heart. It was the only way to survive in a world full of liars and betrayers.

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She was twenty-one and working in her family's proud and reputable restaurant.

Everyday consisted of serving food to various people, cleaning up after the many slobs that didn't know a thing or two about table manners, and dealing with the occasional grope here and there (which, being the fierce woman that she was, made sure they got JUST what they deserved). She made sure to blend in with her many co-workers and engage in friendly conversation with them, even on days when she wasn't feeling up for human interaction. If any of the staff were to describe the young woman, they'd say things along the lines of 'friendly' and 'carefree'.

And by all means was she carefree. She went by her family's high standard of making sure that the working environment was a fun one to work in, no matter the excuse. Those that didn't feel like they fit in or had the means to be laid-back were taught to. Her father worked in an equally reputable restaurant back in his youthful years, so he knew firsthand what dealing with strict people was like; it didn't make for happy workers or friendly customers. So he made sure to instill his own business with all the carefree, liberating attitude he and his staff could muster. He wanted it to feel like home. And that's what she strived to live by everyday of every year, ever since she first heard her father talk about it. She made sure that the people that were hired into the business were very friendly and hard-workers whom she felt had the potential to exhibit the necessary requirements expected of her father. It was what attracted many people to come work for them. And she was glad for that.

But each day was the same for her. Nothing ever seemed to change in her little world. Sometimes, when she got ready to close up for the day and it was just her, she'd look out of one of the quaint little windows overlooking the busy streets ahead and wished for the hole in her life to be filled; to finally find someone she could get along great with, to share her inner most secret thoughts and dreams with, without the fear of being betrayed or used. But then she'd look around her and remember the promise she made to her father years ago– to help him run the business he considered his pride and joy, and to make it a place people could always feel welcomed in. He had no other children or family members to pass his legacy onto, and she didn't want him running a strenuous business in his old age. And she most certainly didn't want some hotshot, moneybags to buy it off them. So she made the sacrifice to give up her own dreams in lieu of supporting her dad's.

But every once in a while…she had to wonder.

And she wondered: would she ever get the chance to pursue a career outside of the one she worked in? And what about love? She had a mother and father to aid, both in business and for the coming years. But would there be time for more in the next year, or so? She wanted what her parents had– a special someone in her life whom she could confide in and share many experiences with. But she had no one to help keep the business running for her to pursue any of these desires. Sure, the workers were (more or less) dependable. But none of them ever lasted more than a year– leaving in order to pursue other opportunities, instead. And family? She felt sorrow to always be reminded that family from both sides abandoned her and her parents, simply because no one cared for them. She was, in short words, stuck and alone.

She closed her eyes.

Despite the gnawing feeling of hopelessness buried deep within her heart, she wanted, desperately, to hope against hope that she'd attain personal freedom for herself and get her chance meeting with 'prince charming'. But it was all too unrealistic; she had no time to dedicate to another or the means to ensure her small family was taken cared for. In small words, she was a lost cause.

Her whole world always centered around her family. To leave her family would be like forsaking them, she was all too afraid to admit. Even the smallest bit of selfishness would lead to trouble. So she learned to keep herself closed off. It was the only way to survive in a world that left you cornered and alone.

**X**


	2. Chapter 2

Their first meeting was in one word: disastrous.

It all started when the young CEO got a call from his brother one sunny morning, requesting that they get together and meet up for lunch at a restaurant they often went to as kids (for nostalgia sake). And he couldn't help but look down at his desk, piles and piles of paperwork adorning the sleek mahogany table, all of them just waiting for either stamps of approval or signatures needed to proceed with various projects. He knew the grueling schedule he was in for if he accepted his brother's invitation. He rubbed his tired eyes, barely suppressing a yawn over the receiver. He was well on his way into the seventh cup of coffee today. But he couldn't refuse– he knew this all too well. So he closed up his laptop and told his audibly eager sibling that he'd meet him at the place in thirty minutes.

And when he got there, barely exiting the black Mercedes, he was immediately brought into the fiercest hug he'd ever experienced in his life.

"It's so great to see you again, brother!"

The young man couldn't help but hug the person back, not bothering to hide the somber smile tugging at his face. "Yeah. It's good to see you, too, Emil."

He stepped back to observe the man before him; nothing about him changed in the last six months since they last met. He still retained the same wide-eyed appearance from youth, wearing a smile that stretched from ear to ear. He noticed with some astonishment that he was at least an inch taller than him.

As if reading his mind, the other man replied with a chuckle, "I guess we weren't always going to be the same size, despite being twins and all."

"I guess not."

They exchanged small laughter before heading inside. They got a booth towards the back– the same one they sat in as children. And as usual, Emil was the first to strike up conversation, asking his brother all sorts of questions, ranging from how his work was going to whether or not he'd been seeing anyone as of late.

"No," he simply told him. He really didn't like talking about _this_ particular subject. But it came up often, nonetheless.

"Really? What about that new secretary you hired two weeks ago? What was her name…?" he suddenly pondered, his index finger pressed against the bottom of his chin in thought. "Oh yeah, Tiffany!" he said, snapping his fingers. "What about her? She seems nice."

_Tiffany?_ He had to suppress the urge to grimace. "No way in hell."

Green eyes curiously stared back. "But why?"

"She's, in short words, a major slut. I doubt even Zelos from Floor 2 would touch that– and he's the biggest man-whore known to man. Ever."

Emil's eyes widened a fraction from his brother's "colorful" choice of words. "Oh… I had no idea. Well, uh, then what about Trish's friend, Amanda?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You mean 'horse mouth' that lives next door to you and your wife? No, thanks."

"She's nice," the younger sibling defended.

"Heh. Yeah, if you think she's attractive when she never shuts the hell up."

"Then what about Meila?"

"Cheater."

"Angie?"

"A total fake."

"Alice?"

"Um, no," he said, actually having to grimace at that. "I'd rather not even entertain that thought."

"Ok," Emil let out, exasperatedly. "Then what about my co-worker, the one I told you about last week? She's really nice, great with kids and she's studying to be a vet."

The older brother let out a tired breath, closing his eyes briefly with his head hung low.

"Look, I'm not interested in being set-up with random women. And to be very frank, I don't see why it's so important for me to be in a relationship right now. I've been doing just fine without one."

The other man sighed, not too pleased with his brother's answer. "Well…it's just…" He absentmindedly stirred his pasta, looking a little forlorn, lost in-mid sentence. He took another deep breath before he began. "It's just that…I don't want your whole life to pass you by with nothing but the business to keep you company. As your brother, I want to see you happy."

The CEO crossed his arms at his statement. "And what makes you think I'm not?"

"Well…you have this look in your eyes. It's a lonely look; it says you're not happy with the way things are and you're wishing for something more in your life."

The CEO's eyes hardened a little. "I don't need anyone."

"And why not?" he retorted. "Is it because you're scared? You're afraid to open your heart to another person, to seem vulnerable like any regular human being?"

"No. It's because this world only has people out to take advantage of you when they can. They're either weak people or they're cunning manipulators. No one is to be trusted."

"Not everyone is like that, brother. I mean…Trish isn't that type of person…"

"And she's one in many."

His brother sighed. "Ratatosk, look…"

"YOU FILTHY BASTARD!"

A loud crash, followed by a few breaking glasses, rang to the far end of the restaurant. Both siblings, like the rest of the people there, turned to see the sudden commotion. From what they could tell, a burly young man who looked to be in his mid-thirties was sitting on the ground, broken cups and plates all around him, looking both shocked and thoroughly pissed. A young woman stood before the man, bearing teeth and two clenched hands. And if looks could kill…

"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME, YOU PIG?!"

"And is THIS how you treat paying customers?" the man retorted in a yell.

The woman scoffed in disgust. "THIS," she said, pointing a shaky finger at him, "Is how I treat scumbags who think it's ok to molest someone just because you're paying them!" she finished, huffing and glaring daggers at the man on the floor.

On the other end, the CEO looked on, mutely enraptured by the scene playing out between the customer and the waitress. Something about the girl caught his eye, and he was having a hard time pulling his gaze away.

Soon after the girl's outburst, an older man stepped out from behind the counter and approached the girl with a hand on her shoulder. "I think it's best that you leave, sir," the newcomer told the angry customer in a composed voice.

"Ooor I can sue this sorry bitch for hitting me!" The young man, from afar, could see the girl's face morph into a more expressive kind of anger at those words.

"And what did you call me?!" She moved forward, most likely to attack again, but was quickly held in place by the man beside her.

"I called you a bitch, BITCH!"

"Oh, that does it–"

"Apologize right now," the other man cut in. Everyone, by now, was all ears to the argument. Not one person moved to intervene.

"No way in hell am I apologizing to her! Heh, hate to know the poor bastards that raised HER sorry ass."

"Then maybe it's better that you leave." The other man's voice carried an edge to it, despite his outward composure.

"Not before this shit for brains is fired for assaulting me!"

Her mouth agape, the girl tried again to charge the man. "Shit for brains? You MOLESTED ME, ASSHOLE!"

"And who's gonna believe you!" he told her, spreading his arms out to indicate everyone there. "Not a single damn person, that's who."

"That's it!" The girl broke free from the other guy's grasp, stomping a foot forward in challenge. "Get up and say that again, you coward, so I can show you what respect means!"

The man picked himself off the floor, cracking his knuckles. "And you think you can take me on? Don't make me laugh."

"I'm not afraid of you, if that's what you mean!"

"Stop it," the older man told her, giving her a warning look.

"No," she spat back. "This guy is clearly trying to pick a fight and I'm not about to let him get away with harassing me!"

"Well then, come on, little girl. Show me this 'respect' you said you were gonna teach me. I dare you."

The girl, who'd been severely angry moments ago, smiled wickedly, a certain glint in her eyes that didn't escape the young CEO.

"With pleasure."

And with swift accuracy, she swung her right leg at him, sending him flying (much to everyone's amazement) across the room. He crashed into a couples' table, knocking all the plates onto the ground in the process. A loud grunt followed after. But the girl calmly walked over to him, as though unfazed, smirking as he weakly got up from his position, sporting a deep cut on the side of his face.

"And THAT'S how I teach respect. Care to learn some more, scumbag?"

"You…you BITCH!" He threw a punch, aiming for her face. But she sidestepped and watched the large man fall face-first into the ground. He quickly jumped up and swung another punch at her. And another. And another. But each one met air as she gracefully maneuvered herself around the tables, taunting him with a smirk that only served to enrage him even more.

Ratatosk was simply amazed. Here was this girl, who, by all appearances, looked like some dainty, little flower. But he was quickly seeing that she was anything but. She had a fire in her– something he hadn't seen in any of the other girls he's had the displeasure of meeting. This girl moved with such fluidity around the room, as though dancing around her attacker with unbelievable grace and precision, and an air of confidence radiated off her body as she deflected each move. It looked like a beautiful scene unfolding before him.

This girl…she was…so different.

"Come here, you little whore!"

The gargantuan man, in the meanwhile, continued to blindly throw punches at her, tumbling over chairs and broken dishware. People in the way of the chaos quickly moved to the side to avoid the barrage. But the small girl didn't let up. She dodged each punch with precision like a pro.

In his frustration, the man grabbed a plate and threw it towards her. But she simply angled her head to the side, hearing the plate shatter loudly behind her. She then charged forward, performing a side sweep towards the man's legs, and successfully knocking him over a broken table. He let out another pained grunt as his face met with shattered ceramic.

"BITCH!"

The girl jumped back, smirking at the fallen man before her. She flipped her hair back in nonchalance. "Ready to apologize?"

But the man didn't seem like he was ready to throw in the towel just yet. He slowly rose from the wreckage below, red faced and majorly cut up, glaring at the girl like a feral lion. His nostrils flared in response. And in a split second, he leaped forward with his right fist, aiming at the girl's face. But once again, she sidestepped his attack, having predicted his movement.

This, in turn, further fueled the man's aggression as he started in on her, regardless of his, now, sluggish movements. He threw punches in all directions, wildly attacking in his blind rage. This, of course, made it easier for the waitress to dodge each one.

More tables collapsed around them as people continued to watch from the sidelines.

"Haha. What's the matter, muscle man? Can't catch m–ahh!" The girl, having not expected it, though, slipped on a piece of glass, falling into the very table the siblings were sitting at. The girl looked up in time to notice the man's fist flying towards her. Using her quick reflexes, she brought her arms up to block the attack, briefly shutting her eyes in fright.

A loud punching noise resounding in the air. And all was silent.

The girl's arms shook in anticipation above her. But having felt nothing at that moment, she cautiously opened her eyes and was surprised to see a blonde man, who she didn't recognize, standing in front of her, holding the other guy's fist in place.

Ratatosk, from above, gave the man's hand a tight squeeze, glaring through two crimson slits as he spoke. "I wouldn't pursue this any further, if I were you."

The man's nostrils flared fiercely. "Get out of my way, boy!"

Ratatosk almost had the urge to laugh. "Excuse me?" he told him, stretching upward to show he was closer to the man in size than he presumed. "But I would hardly consider myself a 'boy', as you so cleverly put it."

"This doesn't concern you," the man spat at him.

"…Yeah, you're right. This doesn't concern me. But I'm also not going to sit around and let you hit on a girl, if I can help it." He squeezed the man's hand painfully hard. "So do everyone here a favor and just leave. Because from the looks of it, you're disturbing the peace here."

Ratatosk confidently looked at the man before him, not showing the slightest bit of fear. He merely squeezed his hand even harder, making sure the gruff man got his point…and knew he was serious about what he said. He could hear the man gulp, most likely in fright. And finally, after what seemed like an eternal standoff, the other man tore his hand away and stomped towards the glass doors, slamming both open in an angry fashion. And even as the doors closed, no one made a sound.

Emil, however, broke the silence, bending down to check on the waitress who'd been involved moments ago.

"You ok, Miss?" he asked her in concern.

The girl looked at him, still speechless from what transpired, and nodded her head. She looked back up to her savior.

The older man from before rushed over to the girl, bent down on one knee and gently grabbed her left hand. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "No," she said in a small voice. Her eyes, once again, traveled to the man who stood with his back to her, mouth slightly agape.

And just like that, time unfroze. The restaurant automatically flooded with talk about the incident; several people turning to look at the group while saying something to the person next to them. Others walked up to them, either congratulating Ratatosk for his heroic deed or asking the waitress if she was alright. A few waiters came with brooms and dustbins to clean up the mess and other customers waltzed in, not having a clue as to what just occurred moments before.

The girl made a move to pick herself off the floor when a large hand fell into her line of vision. She looked up to see the man that saved her, staring at her with a face of indifference.

"Here," he told her.

She felt her heart leap in her chest, cheeks pinking a little. "U-uh, thanks."

She grabbed his hand as he quickly hoisted her up, managing to get her back on her own two feet. But even as she was clearly off the floor, and there was no other means of aiding her, the girl dully noted that neither made a move to separate from the small contact. And she was…strangely ok with that. But just as quick as it came, the spell was immediately broken the moment the older man came up beside her, and her mystery savior let go of her hand. His warmth disappeared, much to her disappointment.

"Are you sure you're ok?" the older man worriedly asked her.

She smiled up at him, letting him know that she was, indeed, ok. "Yup. Just fine, daddy."

Her father let out a breath of relief, resting a hand on her shoulder– a gesture not lost on the young woman. "That's reassuring to hear." He slowly turned to Ratatosk, smiling a bit. "And I have you to thank, young man."

Ratatosk stuffed his hands in his pockets, as though to brush off the embarrassment he was, no doubt, feeling after being the center of attention to most of the people there.

"Not at all, sir. Anyone else would have done the same," he told him, even when he knew no one else made any attempt to settle the fighting. But this man didn't need to hear that.

"Nonsense, what you did was heroic. And I want you to know that I'm thankful for that." His eyes shone warmly at him. It briefly reminded Ratatosk of his father; how his eyes looked the same way…so warm and comforting…

Emil came to his brother's side, flashing the dad and daughter duo an apologetic look. "I'm just sorry that the man made a mess of things in your restaurant and caused quite a commotion."

"It's fine," the older man reassured, waving it off, "All that matters is that no one got seriously hurt."

"Indeed."

"If you don't mind, sir, we'll be taking our leave now," Ratatosk cut in.

"Oh, of course. I don't want to take up your time. But please, don't let this incident dishearten you from visiting again; it's actually a very peaceful place to dine in, I assure you."

Ratatosk shook his head. "No, I honestly don't doubt that. Unfortunately, I have some important business to take care of at the moment. But thank you for the meal." He looked to his brother. "Let's go, Emil."

"Yes." Emil looked to the man with a serene smile plastered on his face. "And thank you very much for the food. It was delicious, as always."

The older man nodded to both as the siblings made their way out the double doors.

Emil decided to walk with his brother to the Mercedes, looking a little disappointed that their time was cut short. Neither said a word to one another during their walk. He didn't think their lunch would end like this. But it did, and now he had to say goodbye to his brother. When they'd get a chance to meet again, he wasn't sure. It was discouraging, to say the least.

He saw his brother fish out his keys from his pants pocket and click the unlock button to open the driver door. Ratatosk turned back to look at Emil.

"We'll keep in touch," he told him.

"I know…" Emil didn't make an effort to hide the disappointment in his voice, looking down with dejected eyes.

Ratatosk knew how precious their time together was to the younger man. They lived in different cities. And couple that with his crazy work schedule…

_No._

"I'll try to clear up my schedule…so that I can get back with you sometime, by the end of this week. Ok?"

His brother hadn't looked convinced, wearing that ever-familiar small smile of his. "Don't make promises you can't keep, brother."

"But this one I'll make the effort to accomplish," Ratatosk told him firmly.

The younger sibling couldn't help the hopeful grin tugging at his lips. "Heh, heh…yeah, I look forward to that." He held out his hand. "So see you around, brother."

Ratatosk smiled. "Yeah, see you aro–"

"Heeey! Hold on!" His ears suddenly perked up. _That voice…_

Both turned back to see the waitress from the restaurant running up to them, looking quite flustered and nervous. She came to an abrupt halt before them, looking up with large, rounded blue eyes at them. Her cheeks were dusted a light pink, lips upturned in an appreciative smile. Up close, she looked pretty and innocent– a far cry from the spunky, fierce girl just moments ago.

She took a deep breath before speaking up. "I want to make it up to you– both of you."

They each gave her perplexed looks.

"What are you talking about?" Ratatosk asked her. He noticed her feet shuffle a little at that; looking two parts nervous, one part scared. But of what?

She took another deep breath, straightening her posture, trying to convey a face of bravery (but it resembled more like desperation) as she answered, "I don't want to disappoint any of our customers."

"But, Miss, it wasn't you that did anything wrong," Emil interjected.

"I know that," she firmly told him. "But it was my fault that you two couldn't enjoy your meal. And for that, it only makes sense that I resolve the situation. I don't want what happened today to reflect on my father. So please, allow me to remedy this disturbance by making it up to you."

Ratatosk looked her in the eyes, saw the mild desperation she hid in those blue irises. He could tell right off the bat that she genuinely meant every word she said. She was being utterly and completely honest right now.

The young CEO crossed his arms, never breaking eye contact with the girl before him. "And _how_ to you propose to do that?"

She looked down for a moment, as though unsure of how to respond to his question, before her face lit up brilliantly. "I know! Why don't you two come by after closing hours and I'll treat you both to a free meal. How's that sound?"

"I can't," Ratatosk deadpanned. "Just like I told your father earlier, I have some important business to take care of."

"I doesn't have to be _right_ after we close. You can come two, three hours after. I don't mind."

"But that's not the point. I just don't have time to be going places."

"Then tomorrow," she tried. "You have time tomorrow, right?"

"No, I don't."

"Actually," Emil said in a teasing tone. "You said you'd be finished by the end of the week."

"I said, I'd _try_," Ratatosk firmly emphasized. But Emil didn't look the least bit fazed.

"But if I remember correctly, you said you'd make more of an effort to clear up your schedule. Isn't that right, brother?" Emil finished sweetly.

Ratatosk, however, looked just about ready to deck him.

_What the hell are you doing, Emil? _

His brother was giving him an innocent look. But he knew better– Emil was up to something, and he was, in NO WAY, pleased with his sudden need to push the subject. Wordlessly, the waitress looked on between the two brothers, not having a single clue as to what was going on.

"Um–"

"We'll be more than happy to come by later today," Emil suddenly cut the waitress off. "I mean, if that's alright with you and all?"

The girl shook her head. "Oh! No, not at all."

"Ratatosk?" Emil side-glanced in his siblings' direction.

The CEO made no effort to hide the displeasure on his features, crossing his arms suddenly. "I guess," he huffed out.

Emil clapped his hands together. "Then it's settled. We'll swing by around seven today."

The girl smiled wide. "Ok!"

Ratatosk's heart leaped and the smallest of blushes tainted his cheeks (which didn't go unnoticed by the smiling boy beside him). He looked down, hoping she didn't see it.

"I promise I won't let you guys down," the girl cheerily finished. She suddenly extended her hand to Ratatosk, who only looked at it with mild confusion. "By the way, my name's Marta Lualdi. And you are?"

He paused, and then finally looked at her. His heart, once again, stirred from the look of pure bliss on her face. He slowly uncrossed his arms and extended a hand, carefully taking a hold of her own and relishing in the warmth seeping from it. And without his knowing it, he smiled.

"Ratatosk. It's Ratatosk Castagnier."

**X**


End file.
